FLIP'S

 "ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE"

 ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON

 COSY CORNER SERIES

 * * * * *

 FLIP'S "ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE"

 Works of

 Annie Fellows Johnston

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 The Little Colonel $. 50 The Giant Scissors . 50 Two Little Knights of Kentucky . 50 Big Brother . 50 Ole Mammy's Torment . 50 The Story of Dago . 50 Cicely . 50 Aunt 'Liza's Hero . 50 The Quilt that Jack Built . 50 Flip's "Islands of Providence" . 50 Mildred's Inheritance . 50

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 L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 200 Summer Street Boston, Mass. 

[Illustration: "'ALEC, ' HE SAID, PAUSING IN THE DOORWAY, 'WHAT'S AGREEN GOODS MAN?'" (_See page 75_)]

 Cosy Corner Series

 FLIP'S "ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE"

 By

 Annie Fellows Johnston

 Author of "Asa Holmes, " "The Little Colonel Stories, " "Big Brother, " etc. 

 _Illustrated by_ E. F. Bonsall

 "_I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air;_" --_Whittier_

 _Boston_ _L. C. Page & Company_ _Publishers_

 _Copyright, 1902_ BY THE TRUSTEES OF THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK

 _Copyright, 1903_ By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY (INCORPORATED) _All rights reserved_

 Published August, 1903

 _Fourth Impression, February, 1907_

 _Colonial Press_ Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, Mass. , U. S. A. 

 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

 "'ALEC, ' HE SAID, PAUSING IN THE DOORWAY, 'WHAT'S A GREEN GOODS MAN?'" (_See page 75_) _Frontispiece_

 "'YOU'RE BOUND TO HEAR IT SOMETIME'" 19

 "'THE LORD HAS CERTAINLY SENT YOU, DICK'" 57

 "HE MADE SEVERAL RAPID CALCULATIONS ON THE BACK OF THE ENVELOPE" 109

 "'IT'S THE FIRST MONEY I EVER EARNED IN MY LIFE, ' SHE SAID, GLEEFULLY" 117

 "HIS HAND WENT UP INVOLUNTARILY TOWARD HIS HAT" 145

 "HE BLURTED OUT HIS TROUBLE IN BROKEN SENTENCES" 161

 "'IT WAS THAT UNLUCKY GOLD COIN'" 177

 * * * * *

 FLIP'S "ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE"

CHAPTER I. 

Carefully locking the door of his little gable bedroom, Alec Stokerput down the cup of hot water he carried, and peered into the mirrorabove his wash-stand. Then, although he had come up-stairs fullydetermined to attempt his first shave, he stood irresolute, strokingthe almost imperceptible down on his boyish lip and chin. 

"It does make me look older, that's a fact, " he muttered to hisreflection in the glass. "Maybe I'd better not cut it off until I'vehad my interview with the agent. The older I look, the more likelyhe'll be to trust me with a responsible position. Still, " hecontinued, surveying himself critically, "I might make a morefavourable impression if I had that 'well-groomed' look the paperslay so much stress on nowadays, and I could mention in a careless, offhand way something about having just shaved. "

It was not yet dark out-of-doors, but after a few minutes of furtherdeliberation, Alec pulled down the blind over his window and lightedthe lamp. Then, opening a box that he took from his bureau, he drewout his Grandfather Macklin's razor and ivory-handled shaving-brush. 

"I'm sure the old gentleman never dreamed, when they made me hisnamesake, that this was all of his property I would fall heir to, " hethought, bitterly. 

The moody expression that settled on his face at the thought hadbecome almost habitual in the last four weeks. The happy-go-lucky boyof seventeen seemed to have changed in that time to a morose man. June had left him the jolliest boy in the high school graduatingclass. September found him a morbid cynic. 

It had been nine years since his mother, just before her death, hadbrought him back to the old home for her sister Eunice to take careof--Alec and the little five-year-old Philippa and the baby Macklin. Their Aunt Eunice had made a happy home for them, and although sherarely laughed herself, and her hair had whitened long before itstime, she had allowed no part of her burdens to touch theirthoughtless young lives. It was only lately that Alec had beenaroused to the fact that she had any burdens. He was rehearsing themall now, as he rubbed the lather over his chin, so busily that he didnot hear Philippa's light step on the back stairs. Philippa couldstep very lightly when she chose, despite the fact that she was longand awkward, with that temporary awkwardness of a growing girl whofinds it hard to adjust herself and her skirts to her constantlyincreasing height. 

Alec almost dropped his brush as she suddenly banged on his door. "Isthat you, Flip?" he called, although he knew no one but Philippa everbeat such thundering tattoos on his door. 

"Yes! Let me in! I want to ask you something. "

He knew just how her sharp gray eyes would scan him, and he hesitatedan instant, divided between a desire to let her see him in the manlyact of shaving himself and the certain knowledge that she would teasehim if he did. 

Finally he threw open the door and turned to the glass in his mostindifferent manner, as if it were an every-day occurrence with him. "Come in, " he said; "I'm only shaving. I'm going out this evening. "

If he had thought she would be impressed by his lordly air, he wasmistaken, for, after one prolonged stare, she threw herself on thebed, shrieking with laughter. Long practice in bandying words withher brother had made her an expert tease. Usually they both enjoyedsuch combats, but now, to her surprise, he seemed indifferent to hermost provoking comments, and scraped away at his chin in dignifiedsilence. 

"I believe you said you had something to say to me, Philippa, " hesaid presently, in a stern tone that made her stare. Never, exceptwhen he was very angry, did he call her anything but Flip. 

Suddenly sobered, she took her face out of the pillows and peered athim curiously, twisting one of the long plaits of hair that hung overher shoulder. 

"I have, " she said. "I want to know what's the matter with you. Whathas come over you lately? You've been as sullen as a brown bear fordays and days. I asked Aunt Eunice just now, while we were washingthe supper dishes, what had changed you so. You used to be whistlingand joking whenever you came near the house. Now you never open yourlips except to make some sarcastic speech. 

"She said that it was probably because you were so disappointedabout not getting that position in the bank that you had set yourheart on, and she was afraid that you were growing discouragedabout ever finding any position worth while in this sleepy littlevillage. She didn't know that I saw it, but while she was talkinga tear splashed right down in the dish-water, and I made up my mindthat it must be something lots worse than just plain disappointmentor discouragement, and that I was going to ask you. Now, you needn'tsnap your mouth shut that way, like a clam. You've got to tell me!"

"Aunt Eunice doesn't want you to know, " he said, turning away fromthe glass, razor in hand, to look at her intently. "But you're a biggirl, Flip--nearly as tall as she is, if you are only fifteen. You'rebound to hear it sometime, and in my opinion it would be better foryou to hear it from me than to have it knock you flat comingunexpectedly from a stranger, as I heard it. "

[Illustration: "'YOU'RE BOUND TO HEAR IT SOMETIME. '"]

"Tell me, " she urged, her curiosity aroused. 

"Can you stand a pretty tough knock?"

"As well as you, " she answered, meeting his gaze steadily, yet with aqueer kind of chill creeping over her at his mysterious manner. 

"Well, what do you suppose you and Mack and I have been living on allthese years that we have been living with Aunt Eunice?"

"Why--I--I don't know! Mother's share of Grandfather Macklin'sproperty, I suppose. He divided it equally between her and AuntEunice. "

"Well, we just haven't!" Alec exclaimed. "That was spent before wecame here, and nearly all of Aunt Eunice's share, too. She's beendrawing right out of the principal the last two years so that shecould keep us in school, and there's hardly anything left but thisold house and the ground it stands on. She never told me until thissummer. That's why I took the first job that offered, and droveMurray's delivery wagon till the regular driver was well. It wasn'tparticularly good pay, but it paid for my board and kept me fromfeeling that I was a burden on Aunt Eunice. 

"I was sure of getting that position in the bank. One of thedirectors had as good as promised it to me. While it wouldn't havepaid much at first, it would have been an entering wedge, and haveput me in the direct line of promotion. And you know that from thetime I was Macklin's age it has been my ambition to be a banker likegrandfather. Since I failed to get that, nobody, not even AuntEunice, knows how hard I've tried to get into some steady, good-paying job. I've been to every business man in the village, anddone everything a fellow could do, seems to me, but in a little placelike this there's absolutely no opening unless somebody dies. Thegood places are already filled by reliable, middle-aged men who havegrown up in them. There's no use trying any longer. Every time I getmy hopes up it's only to have them dashed to pieces--shipwrecked, youmight say. "

He paused a minute, ostensibly to give his chin a fresh coating oflather, but in reality to gather courage for the words he found sodifficult to say. In the silence, Macklin's voice came floating up tothem from the porch below. Sitting on the steps in the twilight, withhis bare feet doubled under him, he was reciting something to hisAunt Eunice in a high, sturdy voice. It came in shrilly through theopen window of Alec's room, where the brown shade and overhangingmuslin curtains flapped back and forth in the evening breeze. 

Philippa smiled as she listened. He was reciting a poem that AuntEunice had taught each of them in turn, after the Creed and theCommandments and the Catechism. It was Whittier's hymn--"The EternalGoodness. " She had paid them a penny a stanza for learning it, and asthere are twenty-two stanzas in all, Philippa remembered how rich shefelt the day she dropped the last copper down the chimney of herlittle red savings-bank. 

It had been seven years since Alec learned it, but the words were asfamiliar still as the letters of the alphabet. As Macklin'shigh-pitched voice reached them, Philippa joined in in a singsongundertone, and even Alec found himself unconsciously following thewell-remembered lines in his thought:

 "I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care. "

"There!" said Philippa, stopping abruptly, "you were talking aboutshipwrecks. According to that hymn, there's always some island readyfor you to be washed up on. How do you know but that you're going toland some place where you'll be lots better off than if you'd stayedhere in Ridgeville?"

There was a contemptuous sneer on Alec's face, not pleasant to see, as he answered, roughly: "Bosh! That's all right for people who canbelieve in such things, but I'm past such Robinson Crusoe fables. "

"Why, Alec Stoker!" she cried, in amazement, "do you mean to say thatyou don't believe in Providence any more?" There was a look of horroron her face. 

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've come to think it's a case of everyfellow for himself; sink or swim--and if you're not strong enough topush to shore, it's drown and leave more room for the rest. "

"Alec Mack--lin Sto--ker!" was all that Philippa could find breath tosay at first. Presently she exclaimed, "I should think you'd beashamed to talk so! Any boy that had such a grand old grandfather asyou! He didn't have any better chance than you in the beginning, andhad to struggle along for years. Look what a place he made forhimself in the world!"

"That's all you know about it!" cried Alec, his hand trembling withan emotion he was trying hard to control. In that instant the razorslipped, slightly cutting his chin. 

"Now!" he muttered, hastily tearing a bit of paper from the margin ofa newspaper to stop the blood, and then rummaging in the wash-standdrawer for a piece of court-plaster. He was a long time adjusting itto his satisfaction, for the words he wanted to say would not takeshape. He knew what he had to tell her would wound deeply, and hehesitated to begin. When he faced her again, his voice trembled withsuppressed excitement. He spoke rapidly:

"I may as well out with it. You want to know why I didn't get thatposition in the bank? It is because my father, J. Stillwell Stoker, died behind the bars of a penitentiary! I'm the son of a jailbird--adefaulter and a forger! That's why the bank didn't want me. They'dhad their fingers burned with him, and didn't want to risk another ofthat name. Thought there might be something in the blood, I suppose. That's where all grandfather's property went, to pay it back; all butthis house and the little Aunt Eunice kept for our support. Andthat's why mother came back here with us and died of a broken heart!Now do you wonder that I can't believe in the eternal goodness whenit starts me out in life handicapped like that? Do you blame me whenI say I am going to get out of this town and go away to some placewhere I'll not have my father's disgrace thrown in my teeth everytime I try to do anything worth while? No wonder I'm moody! No wonderI'm a pessimist when I think of the legacy he's saddled us with! AuntEunice thought she could always shield us from the knowledge of it, but she could no more do it than she could hide fire!"

Philippa sat on the bed as if stunned by the words flowing in such avehement rush from her brother's lips. She was white and trembled. "OAlec, " she gasped, with a shudder, "it can't be true!" Then, after adistressing silence, she sobbed, "Does everybody know it?"

"Everybody in the village now, but little Mack, and he'll have to beknocked flat with the fact some day, I suppose, just as we havebeen. "

Philippa shivered and drew herself up into a disconsolate bunchagainst the foot-board. "To think of the way I've prided myself onour family!" she said, in a husky voice. "I've actually bragged ofthe Macklins and paraded the virtues of my ancestors. "

Alec made no answer. Down-stairs the big kitchen clock slowly struckseven. 

"I'll have to hurry, " he remarked. Catching up his blacking-brush, hebegan polishing his shoes in nervous haste. "It's later than Ithought. I'm due at the hotel in thirty minutes. "

"At the hotel!" repeated Philippa, wondering dully how he could takeany interest in anything more in life, knowing all that had blightedtheir young lives. 

"Yes; but don't you tell Aunt Eunice until it's all settled. Ipromised to meet a man there, who's been talking to me about aposition a thousand miles from here. He's interested in amanufacturing business. His firm has a scheme for making money handover fist. He didn't tell me what it is, but he wants some youngfellow about my age to go into it. 'Somebody who can keep his mouthshut, ' he said, 'write a good letter, and make a favourableimpression on strangers in introducing the goods. ' Stumpy Fisherintroduced me to him last night, and he gave me a hint of what hemight do if I suited. Seemed to think I was just the man for theplace. There's another fellow after it, but he thought I'd make abetter impression on strangers, and that is a great consideration intheir business. We're to settle it this evening, as he has to leaveon the nine o'clock train. If we come to terms, he'll want me tofollow next week. "

"Stumpy Fisher introduced you?" repeated Philippa; "why, he--he's theman that runs the Golconda, isn't he?"

"Yes, " admitted Alec, inwardly resenting the disapproval in her tone. "They do gamble in there, I know, and sometimes have a pretty toughrow, but Stumpy is as kind-hearted a man as there is in the village. "

Throwing the blacking-brush hastily back into its box, Alecstraightened himself up and faced his sister, "There, skip along now, Flip, like a good girl. I have to dress. And don't say a word to AuntEunice. I'll tell her myself. "

Philippa rose slowly from the bed and started toward the door. "Ifeel as if I were in a horrible nightmare, " she said. "What you havejust told me about our--him, you know, and then your going away tolive. It's all so sudden and so dreadful. O Alec, I can't stand it tohave you go!"

To his great surprise and confusion, for Philippa had never beendemonstrative in her affection, she threw her arms round his neck, and, dropping her head on his shoulder, began sobbing violently. 

"Oh, come now, Flip, " he protested, awkwardly patting the heavybraids of hair swung over her shoulder; "I wouldn't have told you ifI'd thought you'd take it so. I thought you had so much grit thatyou'd stand by me and back me up if Aunt Eunice objected. We're notgoing to be separated for ever. From what the man told me of thebusiness, I'm sure that I can make enough in a year or so to send foryou. Then you can come and keep house for me, and we'll pay backevery cent we've cost Aunt Eunice, so she'll have something in herold age. Oh, stop crying, like a good girl, Flip! Don't make it anyharder for me than it already is. You don't want me to be late, doyou, and miss the best chance of my life? Punctuality counts foreverything when a man's looking for a reliable employee. "

Without a word, but still sobbing, Philippa rushed from the room. Heheard her going down the back stairs and across the kitchen. When theouter door closed behind her, he knew as well as if he had seen herthat she was running down the orchard path to her old refuge in theJune-apple-tree. 

"The stars ought to be out now, " thought Alec, a few minutes later, as he slipped into his best coat. Pulling up the shade, he peered outthrough the open window. "There'll not be any to-night, " he added;"looks as if it would rain. "

The wind was rising. It blew the muslin curtains softly across hisface. It had driven Miss Eunice and Macklin from the porch. Aleccould hear their voices in the sitting-room. Suddenly another puff ofwind blew the hall door shut, and the cheerful sound was lost. 

"It's certainly going to storm!" he exclaimed, aloud. Raising hislamp for one more scrutiny of himself in the little mirror, he set iton his desk, while he hunted in the closet for an umbrella. 

When he reached the hotel, it was in the deepest voice that he couldsummon that he asked to be shown to Mr. Humphrey Long's room. Then heblushed, startled by its unfamiliar sound; it was so deep. 

Mr. Long was busy, he was told. He had been closeted in his room foran hour with a stranger who had taken supper with him, and had leftorders that Alec, if he came, was not to be shown up till the otherman had gone. 

Alec wandered from the office into the parlour, walking roundnervously while he waited. Half an hour went by. He watched the clockanxiously, than desperately. The minutes were slipping by so fastthat he was afraid there would be no time for his turn before the busstarted to the train. What if the other man should be taken in hisstead after all Mr. Long's fair speeches! The thought made him breakinto a cold perspiration. He drummed nervously on the table besidehim with impatient fingers. 

Presently, through his absorption, came the consciousness that thebell in the town hall was clanging the fire alarm. It was an unusualsound in the quiet little village. Noisy shouts in the next streetproclaimed that the volunteer fire brigade was dragging out thehand-power engine and hose reel. From all directions came the soundof hurrying feet and the cry of "Fire! fire!"

He rushed to the door and looked out. Half a mile toward the north, he judged the distance to be, an angry glow was spreading upward. Itwas in the direction of his home. 

"Where's the fire, Bob?" called a voice across the street. 

"The old Macklin house, " was the answer, tossed back over a man'sshoulder as he ran. Instantly there flashed into Alec's mind theremembrance of the muslin curtains flapping across his face, and thelamp left near them on his desk. Had he blown it out or not? He couldnot remember. He tried to think as he dashed up the street after therunning crowds. 

CHAPTER II. 

There was no faster runner in the village than Alec Stoker. In thelast two field-day contests he had carried off the honours, and nowhe surpassed all previous records in that mad dash from the hotel tothe burning house. 

Swift as he was, however, the flames were bursting from the windowsof his room by the time he reached the gate, and curling up over theeaves with long, licking tongues. It was as he had feared. He hadforgotten to put out the light, the curtains had blown over it, and, fanned by the rising wind, the fire had leaped from curtain to bed, from mosquito-bar to wall, until the whole room was in a blaze. 

Shielded by the tall cedars in front of the house, it had burned sometime before a passing neighbour discovered it. By the time the alarmbrought any response, the upper story was full of stifling pinesmoke. The yard swarmed with neighbours when Alec reached it. In andout they ran, bumping precious old family portraits against wash-tubsand coal-scuttles, emptying bureau drawers into sheets, and dumpingbooks and dishes in a pile in the orchard, in wildest confusion. Everything was taken out of the lower story. Even the carpets wereripped up from the floors before the warning cry came to stand back, that the roof was about to fall in. The fire brigade turned itsattention to saving the barn, but that was old, too, and burned liketinder, as the breath of the approaching storm fanned the flameshigher and higher. 

As Alec leaned back against the fence, breathless and flushed fromhis frantic exertions, Philippa came up to him, carrying the parlourclock and her best hat. 

"Come on, " she said; "we've got to get all these things under shelterbefore the storm strikes us, or they'll be spoiled. Mrs. Sears hasoffered us part of her house. There are four empty rooms in the westwing, and Aunt Eunice says that we can't do any better than to takethem for awhile. "

Again the neighbours came to the rescue, and, spurred on by thewarning thunder, hurried the scattered household goods into shelter. They were all piled into one room in a hopeless tangle. 

"We'll not attempt to straighten out anything to-night, " said MissEunice, looking round wearily when the last sympathetic neighbour haddeparted in time to escape the breaking storm. She and Philippa hadaccepted Mrs. Sears's offer of her guest-chamber for the night. Macklin had gone home with the minister's son. Alec had had manyinvitations, but he refused them all. With a morbid feeling thatbecause his carelessness caused the fire he ought to do penance andnot allow himself to be comfortable, he pulled a pillow and amattress from the pile of goods into the empty room adjoining, andthrew himself down on that. 

In the excitement of the scene through which he had just passed, hehad entirely forgotten the engagement he had run away from. Now, ashe stretched himself wearily out on the mattress, it flashed acrosshis mind that he had failed to keep his appointment, and that the manhad gone. A groan of disappointment escaped him. 

"If I wasn't born to a dog's luck!" he exclaimed, "to miss a positionlike that just when we need it the most. Goodness only knows what weare going to do now. But I needn't say that. It's a hard world, andthere's no goodness in it. "

The next instant, he pulled the sheet over his eyes to shut out theblinding glare of lightning that lit up the empty room. The crash ofthunder that followed seemed to his distorted fancy the defiantchallenge of all the powers of darkness. All sorts of rebelliousthoughts flocked through the boy's mind, as he lay there in thedarkness of the empty room, thinking bitterly of his thwarted plans. Midnight always magnifies troubles, and as he brooded over hisdisappointments and railed at his fate, not only his past wrongsloomed up to colossal size, but a vague premonition of worse evil tocome began to weigh on him. It was nearly morning before he droppedinto a troubled sleep. 

Refreshed by a long night's rest and the tempting breakfast Mrs. Sears spread for her three guests, Philippa soon recovered her usualgay spirits. The news that Alec had disclosed the night before, whichsent her stunned and heart-sick to her retreat in the old apple-tree, had faded into the background in the excitement of the fire. Shethought of it all the time she was dressing, but the keenness of herdistress was not so overwhelming as it had been. It was like some oldpain that had lost its worst sting in the healing passage of time. 

She was young enough to take a keen pleasure in the novelty of thesituation, and ran up-stairs and down with hammer and broom, laughingand joking over the settlement of every picture and piece offurniture with contagious good humour. Alec could not understand it. Even his Aunt Eunice was not as downcast as he had pictured her inthe night, over the loss of her old home. With patient, steadyeffort, she moved along, bringing order out of confusion, and whenPhilippa's fresh young voice up-stairs broke out in the song that hadcome to be regarded as the family hymn, she joined in, at her workbelow, with a full, strong alto:

 "Yet, in the maddening maze of things, Though tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed trust my spirit clings: I know that God is good. "

"Jine in, Br'er Stoker, " called Philippa, laughingly waving herduster in the doorway. "Why don't you sing?"

Alec, who was prone on the floor, tacking down a bedroom carpet, hammered away without an answer. After waiting a minute, she droppeddown on the floor beside him, upsetting a saucer full of tacks as shedid so. "Say, Alec, " she began, in a confidential tone, "what did theman at the hotel say last night? Is he going to take you?"

"Of course not, " was the sulky reply. "You didn't suppose I'd belucky enough for that, did you? I didn't even see him. Another fellowwas there ahead of me, and the fire-alarm sounded while I waited, andthen it was all up. I couldn't dally round waiting for an interviewwhen our home was burning, could I?"

"Maybe he left some word for you, " she suggested. 

"No; I ran down to the hotel to inquire, just as soon as I got thekitchen stove set up this morning. He left on the nine o'clock trainlast night, as he warned me he would, and as I didn't come accordingto my agreement, that's the last he'll ever think of me. Such luck asmine is, anyhow! It was my anxiety to get the place that made me gooff and leave the lamp burning, and now I've not only missed the lastchance I'll ever have, but I've been the means of burning the roofoff from over our heads. You haven't any idea of the way I feel, Flip. I'm desperate! It fairly sets my teeth on edge to hear you goround singing of 'The Eternal Goodness' when I'm knocked out everyway I turn, no matter how hard I try. "

"But, Alec, " she answered, between taps of his noisy hammer, "it'sfoolish of you to take it so to heart, and look on nothing but thedark side. Of course, it is dreadful to be burned out of house andhome, but it might have been lots worse. All the down-stairsfurniture was saved, and the insurance company is going to put us upa nice little cottage as soon as possible. We were not without a roofover our heads for one single hour. Before the old one fell in, Mrs. Sears offered these rooms, and already things are beginning to lookhomelike. Mrs. Sears was one of our 'islands. '

"There we were, you see. It was black night, and we didn't know whichway to turn, but here were these empty rooms, all nice and clean, waiting for us. And it will be the same way about your getting aplace if you don't lose faith and courage. You'll float along awhilefarther, and when you're least expecting it, you'll come on yourisland that's been waiting for you all the time. "

"Oh, you don't know what you're talking about, Flip, " answered Alec, impatiently, pounding away harder than ever. "You make me tired. "

"I do know what I'm talking about, " she retorted, scrambling to herfeet; "and I'll let you know, sir, my singing doesn't set your teethon edge half as bad as your sour looks do mine. I wouldn't be such agrumble-bug! You act like a baby instead of a boy who prides himselfon being old enough to shave. "

With this parting thrust, she flounced out of the room, unmindful ofwhat he called after her, but she thought, guiltily, as she ran, "NowI've done it! He'll be furious all day; but I just had to! He neededsomebody to shake him up out of himself, and I don't care!"

Nevertheless, she sang no more that day, and a few tears dropped onher books, as she made a place for them on the shelves. All Alec'shad been burned. He had lost more than any of them, for his was theonly up-stairs room that was occupied. Philippa loved her brother toodearly not to suffer with him in all his losses and disappointments. 

It was a day of hard work for all of them, but four energetic, determined people can accomplish much, especially when one is aten-year-old boy, whose sturdy legs can make countless trips up anddown stairs without tiring, and another is an athletic young fellowwith the endurance of a man. 

Late in the afternoon, Alec made a final round of inspection. Up-stairs the two bedrooms were in spotless order. They werefurnished even better than those in the old house, for the libraryrugs and curtains had found place there, with some of the bestpictures and ornaments. Down-stairs Philippa was standing in thecentre of the room, about to remove the cover and lamp from thedining-room table. 

"Now it is the parlour, " she said, gaily, waving her hand toward theold piano, the bookcases, and the familiar bric-à-brac on the mantel. "But shut your eyes a minute, and--_abracadabra!_ it's thedining-room. " As she spoke, she whisked a white cloth on the oldclaw-footed mahogany table, and, throwing open a closet door, displayed the orderly rows of china. 

"We'll not have much for supper to-night, but I'm bound it shall beset out in style to celebrate our house-warming; so, Mack, if youhave any legs left to toddle on, I wish you'd run out and get me ahandful of purple asters to put in this glass bowl. I am glad that itwasn't broken. Some kind but agitated friend pitched it out of thewindow into the geranium bed. "

She rattled along gaily, with a furtive side-glance at Alec. He hadhad nothing to say to her since her outburst up-stairs, and now, ignoring her pleasantries, he walked into the kitchen in his mostdignified manner. 

"Is there anything more you want me to do, Aunt Eunice?" he asked. 

Finding that there was nothing just then, he went out to the sideporch opening off the room which was to be used as both dining-roomand parlour. He had hung the hammock there a little while before, andhe threw himself into it with a sigh of relief. Swinging back andforth in the shelter of the vines, the feeling of comfort began tosteal over him that comes with the relaxation of tired muscles. Therattle of dishes and aroma of hot coffee coming out to him werepleasantly suggestive to his healthy young appetite. 

He closed his eyes, not intending to go to sleep, but the hammockstopped swinging almost instantly, and he did not hear the footstepsgoing past him a few minutes later, nor his Aunt Eunice's surprisedcry of welcome as a tall, bearded stranger knocked at the door. 

The continuous murmur of voices finally roused him, and he lay thereblinking and listening, trying to recognize the deep bass voice thatlaughed and talked so familiarly with his aunt. 

"The Lord has certainly sent you, Dick, " Alec heard her say in atremulous tone, and then he knew instantly who had come. 

[Illustration: "'THE LORD HAS CERTAINLY SENT YOU, DICK. '"]

All his life he had heard of Dick Willis, one of the many boys hisgrandfather had befriended and taken into the shelter of his home forawhile. Dick had lived five years in the old house that had justburned, when Eunice and Sally Macklin were children; and all thestories of their school days were full of their foster-brother'smischievous sayings and doings. 

That the harum-scarum boy had given place to this middle-aged, successful business man, with the deep voice and big whiskers, washard for Alec to realize, for in all Miss Eunice's reminiscences hehad kept the perennial prankishness of youth. But now Alec, listening, learned the changes that had taken place since the man'slast visit to his home. He had thought every year that he would comeback for another visit, he told Miss Eunice, but he had put it offfrom season to season, hard pressed by the demands of business, andnow it was too late for him to ever see the old homestead again. Hehad seen an account of the fire in a paper which he read on the trainon his way East, and he decided to stop his journey long enough torun over to the old place for a few hours, and see if she did notneed his help. He wanted her to feel that he stood ready to give itto the extent of his power, and expected her to call upon him asfreely as if he were a real brother. 

Then it was that Miss Eunice's tremulous voice exclaimed again: "TheLord has certainly sent you, Dick! I have been worried for weeks overAlec's future. There is no outlook here in the village for him. Ifyou could only get him a position somewhere--" She paused, the tearsin her eyes. Alec listened breathlessly for his answer. 

"Why didn't you write me before this, Eunice? My business, travellingfor a wholesale shoe house, takes me over a wide territory and givesme a large acquaintance. I am sure that I can get him into somethingor other very soon. You know that I would do anything for Sally'sboy, and when you add to that the fact that he is Alexander Macklin'sgrandson, and I owe everything I am under heaven to that man, you mayknow that I'd leave no stone unturned to repay a little of hiskindness to me. "

Alec's heart gave a great throb of hope. The good cheer of the heartyvoice inspired him with a courage he had not felt in weeks. There wasa patter of bare feet down the garden path, and, peering out betweenthe vines, Alec saw one of the neighbour's boys coming in with a bigdish covered carefully with a napkin. 

"It's fried chicken, " announced the boy, with a grin, as Alec wentdown the step to meet him. "Mother said to eat it while it was hot. She knew you all would be too tired to cook much to-night. "

Without waiting to hear Alec's thanks, he scampered down the pathagain and squeezed through the gap in the fence made by a missingpicket. Alec carried the dish round the house to the kitchen, wherePhilippa was putting the finishing touches to the supper, in heraunt's stead. 

"Did you know that Uncle Dick has come?" she asked, joyfully. "Oh, how good of Mrs. Pine to send the chicken! We didn't have anythingfor supper but coffee and rolls and eggs. He's certainly bringinggood things in his wake. How delicious that chicken does smell! Let'stake it as a good omen, Alec, a forerunner of better days. He'llsurely get you out of your slough of despond. "

"Who, Flip? The chicken or Uncle Dick?" asked Alec, in his oldjesting way, giving one of her long braids a tweak as he passed. Aheavy load seemed to lift itself from Philippa's heart at this signof Alec's return to his merry old self. All during supper she keptglancing at him, for, absorbed in their guest's interestingreminiscences, he seemed to have forgotten the grievances he hadbrooded over so long, and laughed and joked as he had not done forweeks. 

To their great regret, Uncle Dick had to leave that night. Alecwalked to the station with him, feeling that he was being subjectedto a very close cross-examination as to his capabilities andpreferences. The train was late, and as they sat in the waiting-room, the man fell into a profound silence, his hands thrust into hispockets and his brows drawn together in deep thought. 

Finally he said: "You want to be a banker, like your grandfather. Well, I can't manage that, my boy. My influence doesn't lie in thatdirection. The best I can do is to get you in with the firm thatmanufactures all the shoes I sell. It is a big concern. The generalmanager of the factory at Salesbury is a good friend of mine, and Ihappen to know he is on the lookout for a reliable young fellow toput in training as his assistant. He is constantly giving somebody atrial, but nobody measures up to his requirements. Whoever takes itmust go through a regular apprenticeship in the factory and learn thebusiness from the ground up. According to his ideas, you'd not befitted until you'd tried your hand at every piece of machinery in thefactory, and knew how to turn out a pair of shoes from the rawleather. The wages will be small at first. Some of the duties aredisagreeable, many of the requirements exacting, but promotion israpid, and probably by the end of the year you'd be in the office, learning to take an oversight of the different departments; that is, if you had proved there was good stuff in you. If money is what youare after, this opening is better a thousand times than anything thevillage bank could give you in years, and in my opinion it's just asrespectable a calling to handle leather as lucre. You'll have to workand work hard. "

"I don't mind how hard the work is, " answered Alec. "I hate to giveup the one thing that has been my ambition all my life, but I havecome to the point where I'd do anything honest to get a placesomewhere out of this town. I'd even scrub floors. You don't knowwhat I've been through this summer, Uncle Dick. Of course, you knowabout my father?"

He asked the question with such bitterness of tone that his listenerscanned his face intently, then sympathetically. 

"Well, I must get away from that, " Alec continued. "It's an awfulhandicap. The thought of it made me desperate at times. If theyshould hear about him in Salesbury and turn me down on hisaccount--well, I'd just give up! I couldn't stand any more than Ihave already suffered on his account. "

There was no answer for a minute, then the deep voice answered, cheerily: "Alec, your grandmother Macklin once told me that when shewas a very small child she went to visit her grandmother; quite aremote ancestor of yours that would be, wouldn't it? For some reason, she was put to sleep in a trundle-bed in the old lady's room, andalong late in the night she was awakened by a very earnest voice. Shesat up in the little trundle-bed to listen, and there was the oldsaint on her knees, praying for--now, what do you suppose? For 'allher posterity to the latest generation!' She said she didn'tunderstand then what the words meant, but years afterward, when sheheld her first baby in her arms, they came back to her with a feelingof awe, to think that prayers uttered for him, long years before hewas born, were still working to his blessing. 

"It is the same with you, Alec. Evil influences were set afloat byyour father's crime that will undoubtedly work against you many atime, but you must remember all the good that lies on the other handto counteract them. Even your great-great-grandmother's prayers mustcount for something in your behalf. I remember that Alexander Macklinplanted an apple orchard after he was eighty years old. He neverlived to gather even its first harvest, but you have been enjoying itall your life. He did a thousand unrecorded kindnesses that broughthim no returns seemingly, but 'bread cast upon the waters' does comeback after many days, my boy, every time. And you will be eating theresults of that scattering all your life. The little that I may beable to do for you will only be the result of kindness he showed me, and which I could not repay, but am glad now to pass it on to hisgrandson. Don't grow bitter because of your father, and say that fatehas handicapped you. That admission of itself will sap your courageand go far toward defeating you. Say, instead, '_The EternalGoodness_ will more than compensate for the evil that this one manhas wrought me. ' Then go on, trusting in that, and win in spite ofeverything. The harder the struggle the more praise to the victor, you know. "

The whistle of the approaching train brought his little sermon to aclose, and, seizing his satchel, he started hurriedly to the door. "I'll see the manager in a few days, " he continued, hurriedly. "Ihave only a few stops to make this time on my way to Salesbury. Probably I'll have something definite to write you the last of theweek. Good-bye and good luck to you!" He shook hands heartily, swunghimself up on the platform, and disappeared into the car. 

Philippa was waiting in the hammock with a shawl over her head whenAlec returned. The moonlight nights were chilly, but she could notbear to go inside until she heard the result of their conversation. 

"Oh, Alec, " she exclaimed, as he came up wide awake and glowing fromhis walk and his hopeful interview, "wasn't it just like a lovelystory to have the traditional uncle drop down long enough to restorethe family fortunes and then disappear again?"

"Yes, you're a good prophet, " he laughed. "I drifted on to my islandwhen I least expected it, and in the middle of my darkest night. Salesbury is four hundred miles from here, Flip, and we sha'n't seeeach other often, so if it will be any comfort to you, you may say, 'I told you so, ' three times a day, from now on until I leave. "

CHAPTER III. 

Philippa, coming home from school one afternoon, late in September, loitered at the gate for a few more words with the girls who hadwalked that far with her. Sometimes the little group lingered thereuntil nearly sundown, between the laburnum bushes and hollyhocks ofthe old garden, but to-day, Alec's impatient whistle from an upperwindow signalled her. He waved a letter toward her, calling, excitedly, "It's come, Flip! It's come! I'm to start in the morning. I'm packing my trunk now. "

With a hurried good-bye to the girls at the gate, Philippa rushed upthe stairs to her brother's room. The bureau drawers had all beenemptied on the bed, and every chair was full. 

"Here's some things that need buttons, " he announced, as she came in. "Aunt Eunice is pressing my best suit, and Mack has gone down-townafter the shoes that I left to be half-soled. I'll have to rush, forthe letter says to come at once. I didn't suppose they'd be in such ahurry. They're hustlers, I guess. "

His haste was so contagious that Philippa ran into the next room forher sewing-basket, without waiting to take off her hat, and sittingdown on the floor beside the window began to sew on buttons as fastas she asked questions. She always had plenty to say to Alec, and nowthat the time for conversation was limited to a few short hours, shecould not talk fast enough. 

Presently the click of the gate made her look out. "Here comes Mack, "she said. "Your shoes are wrapped in a newspaper, and he's so busyreading something on it that he doesn't know where he is going. Lookout, snail!" she called; "you'll bump into the house in a minute ifyou are not careful!"

The boy came slowly up the stairs still spelling out the paragraphthat interested him. 

"Alec, " he said, pausing in the doorway, "what's a green goods man?This says that a gang of 'em were arrested in New York. Thedetectives traced them by a letter one of them left here inRidgeville at the hotel. Think of that! Jonas Clark is the man's realname, alias H-u-m-p-h, " he spelled, "Humphrey (I guess it is) Long. "

Alec snatched the knotty bundle and glanced at the paragraph soeagerly that Philippa looked at him in surprise. She was still moresurprised to see a deep flush spread over his face, as he tore thenewspaper off the shoes and glanced at the date. Then he dropped iton the bed and began to fumble for something in the bottom of histrunk, saying, carelessly, "Oh, green goods men are just fellows whorope people in to buy counterfeit money. Here, Mack, you'll not havea chance to run many more errands for me. Trot down to Aunt Eunicewith these neckties, please, and ask her to press them for me whileshe's in the business. "

As soon as Mack disappeared, Alec caught up the paper again. "Flip, "he said, in an impressive voice, after his second reading, "do youremember the night of the fire I was to meet a man at the hotel andmake the final arrangement with him for taking a position he hadoffered me?"

Philippa nodded. 

"Well, that is the man; Humphrey Long. Think of what I have escaped. From what he said about his sure scheme for making money and makingit easy, I know now that is what he meant; but I never suspected sucha thing then. He was the smoothest talker I ever saw, and was asgentlemanly and well dressed as the minister. And such a way as hehad! He could almost make a body believe that black was white. Suppose I had gone off with him. Whillikens! but I would be in hotwater now! Everybody would have said, 'Only a chip off the old block. Just what might have been expected with such a father. '"

"But, Alec, you wouldn't have gone after he had told you what hisbusiness was!" Philippa exclaimed, in a horrified tone. "You knowthat you wouldn't. "

"No, " he answered, slowly, "but I think now that he intended to keepme in the dark till he got me just where he wanted me, in too deep toinform on them. And I was so desperate for a job away from here thatI would have accepted his offer with very few questions. Don't yousee, my very ignorance of his schemes would have made me a betterdecoy in some cases than if I had not been such an innocent youngduck. Of course, Stumpy Fisher told him all about me, " he added, after a moment's thought. "He might have counted on my being enoughlike my father to take kindly to his crookedness. "

"How queerly things work out!" said Philippa. "If you had had yourown way, you'd have been off with that man and probably in jail withhim now. But the fire stopped you. And if it hadn't been for thefire, Uncle Dick never would have been aroused to the necessity ofleaving his business long enough to make us a visit, and if it hadn'tbeen for the visit you never would have had this position inSalesbury. "

"That's so, " Alec assented, gravely. "It's a whole chain of thoseislands that you and Aunt Eunice are always singing about. I'll makea map of them some day and name each one: 'Fire Island, ' 'Isle ofUncle Dick, ' etc. Then I'll name the whole group after you: 'Flip'sProvidence Islands, ' or something like that. "

Then the subject was dropped, as Macklin came clattering back up thestairs. 

 * * * * *

If the history of Alec's experiences during the next few weeks couldhave been written, it would have differed little from that ofthousands of boys who yearly leave farm and village to push their wayinto the already overcrowded cities. Eager and hopeful, his ambitionplaced no limit to the success he meant to achieve. That he mightfall short of the goal he set for himself never once entered histhoughts. He knew the conditions requisite to success, and felt anhonest pride in the consciousness that he could meet them. He had astrong, healthy body, a thorough education so far as the high schoolcould take him, good habits, and high ideals. 

As the train whirled him on toward Salesbury, he felt that at last hewas placing himself in line with the long list of illustrious men whohad begun life as poor boys and ended it as the benefactors ofmankind. And he felt that he had a distinct advantage over Franklinand some of his ilk, for he faced his future with far more than aloaf of bread under his arm. Forward in the baggage-car hisgrandfather's old leather trunk held ample provision for his present, and an assured position awaited him. 

Salesbury was not a large city, but it seemed a crowded metropolis toAlec's eyes, accustomed to the quiet life of the little inlandvillage. But it was not as a gaping backwoodsman he viewed itssights. If he had never seen a trolley-car before, he had carefullystudied the power that propels one. The whir and clang, the rush ofautomobiles, the pounding of machinery in the great factory allseemed familiar, because they were a part of the world he had learnedto know in his extensive reading. Keenly alive to new impressions, hewas so interested in everything that went on round him that he hadlittle time to be lonesome at first. 

He stayed only a few days at the hotel. Anxious to repay his AuntEunice as soon as possible the money she had spent in replenishinghis wardrobe after the fire, and defraying his travelling expenses, he took a room in a lodging-house, and his meals at a cheaprestaurant. In that way he was able to save nearly twice as much eachweek toward cancelling his indebtedness. 

The letters he wrote home were re-read many times. They were sobright and cheerful and full of interesting descriptions. He didn'tlike the work in the factory, but he liked the manager, and with thedetermination to make his apprenticeship as short as possible andgain a place in the office, he pegged away with a faithfulness andenergy that he felt sure must bring a speedy reward. 

Not till the cold November nights came did Miss Eunice detect alittle note of homesickness creeping into his letters. She would nothave wondered could she have looked in on him while he wrote, buttoned up in his overcoat and with his hat on. His chilly littlebedroom, with its dim lamp and worn matting, was a dismal contrast tothe cheerful home where he had always spent his winter evenings. Thenshe noticed that there was nearly always some reference to therestaurant fare, some longing expressed for one more taste of hercooking--the good cream gravy, the mince turnovers, the crispdoughnuts that had been his favourite dishes at home. 

Once he wrote to Philippa:

 "Think of it, Flip! I don't know a single girl in town. Excepting my landlady, I haven't spoken to a woman since I pulled out of the depot at Ridgeville two months ago. It seems so strange to know only the factory fellows, when at home I was acquainted with everybody. The manager, Mr. Windom, has a pretty daughter whom I'd give a good deal to know. She drives down to the office with him sometimes, and I see her at church. She looks something like your chum, Nordic Gray, laughing sort of eyes, and soft, light hair, and a saucy little nose like your own. "

Later, in a reply to a question from Miss Eunice, he wrote:

 "No, I haven't put in my church letter yet. I took it with me every Sunday for awhile, but I can't get screwed up to the point, somehow. People here are so stand-offish with strangers. I've gone pretty regularly, but nobody has spoken to me yet. I suppose they think that a gawky country boy doesn't belong in such a fashionable congregation. The minister doesn't come down after service to shake hands with people, as Doctor Meldrum does at home. They have a Christian Endeavour Society that I think might be nice if there was any way of breaking the ice to get into it. The young people seem to have the best kind of times among themselves, but they don't seem to care for anybody that hasn't the inside track in their exclusive little circle. "

Then the letters grew shorter. "He had no time to write during theday, " he explained. At night he was either so tired that he went tobed as soon as he had his supper, or some of the boys that workedwhere he did came round for him to go out with them. He had been tothe library several times, and to a free band-concert. When he wasout of debt, he intended to get a season lecture course ticket and goto other entertainments once in awhile to keep from getting theblues. 

He did not mention some of the other places to which he had gone withthe boys. It would only worry his Aunt Eunice, he thought. Probablyshe wouldn't think it was any harm if she lived in the city. Peoplein little places were apt to be narrow-minded, he told himself. Hecould feel that his own opinions were broadening every day. 

He wrote to Macklin on Thanksgiving Day, saying that he intended tomake the most of his holiday and skate all the afternoon. He was gladthat he had brought his skates, for the ice was in fine condition. That was the last letter home for two weeks. 

While Miss Eunice worried, and Philippa haunted the post-office, hewas lying ill in his cheerless little bedroom, on the top floor ofthe cheap lodging-house. He had skated not only Thanksgivingafternoon, but again at night when the ice was illuminated bybonfires and lanterns. There was a danger-signal posted farther downwhere the ice was thin. He had avoided it all the afternoon, butintent on cutting some fancy figure one of the boys had taught him, he did not notice how near he was to the dangerous spot until heheard a cracking noise all round him, and it was too late to savehimself from a plunge into the icy water. 

Although he was helped out immediately, and ran every step of the wayto his room, he was shaking with a chill when he reached it. All thecovering he could pile on the bed did not stop the chattering of histeeth as he lay shivering between the cold sheets. In the morning hewas burning with fever. There was such a sharp pain in his lungs thathe could not draw a full breath. 

He tried to get up and dress, but the attempt made him so weak anddizzy that he could only stagger back to bed and lie there in a sortof stupor. It was not quite clear to him who brought a doctor, butone came in the course of the morning and left two kinds of littlepellets and a glass of water on the chair beside his bed. He was totake two pink pellets every hour and one white one every two hours, he was told. 

There was no clock in the room, and he had no watch, but theengine-house bell in the next block clanged the alarm regularly. 

The responsibility of giving himself his own medicine kept him fromdropping asleep as he longed to do. He would doze for a few minutesand start up, fearing that he had let the time go by, or that he hadtaken a double dose, or that he had confused directions. Was it twopink ones or two white ones, or one hour or two hours? He said itover and over with every variation possible. The confusion wasmaddening. 

The pain in his lungs grew worse. He was burning with thirst, butthere was no more water in the glass. He looked round the room withfeverish, aching eyes, that suddenly filled with hot tears. If hecould only be back in his own room at home, with Aunt Eunice to carefor him, and Flip to make him comfortable, how good it would seem! Hewas tasting to the dregs the misery of being ill, all alone amongstrangers. 

Toward evening the woman who kept the lodging-house sent a littlecoloured boy up to ask if he wanted anything. A pitcher of water wasall that Alec asked for. That being supplied, the boy shut the doorand clattered down the hall, whistling. The night seemed endless. Hour after hour he started up shuddering, as the bell's loud clangawakened him, not knowing what it was that startled him. In hisfeverish hallucinations he thought he was continually breakingthrough the ice into a sea of burning water. He kept clutching at thepillows, thinking they were islands that he was for ever driftingpast and could never reach. 

When morning came at last, and the doctor made his second visit, hefound Alec delirious and the medicine still on the chair beside thebed. With one glance round the cheerless room, he shrugged hisshoulders and went out for help. 

When Alec next noticed his surroundings with eyes that were once moreclear and rational, he saw that the dingy little grate had beenopened and a bright fire was burning in it. The clothing he had lefton the floor in a heap had been put away. The window shade no longerhung askew. He looked round half-expecting to see his Aunt Eunice orFlip, and wondered if he had been so ill that some one had sent forthem. Then his glance fell on a grizzled old man with a wooden leg, dozing in a rocking-chair by the fire. 

"Old Jimmy Scott!" Alec said to himself after a moment's puzzledscrutiny, in which he racked his brain to recall where he had seenthe face before. Finally he remembered. One of the boys had pointedhim out as an old soldier who had taken to nursing when he could nolonger fight. He held no diploma from any training-school for nurses, he was uncouth and rough in many ways, but his varied experiences hadmade him a valuable assistant to the doctor, whom he called hisgeneral, and obeyed with military exactness. 

As Alec stirred on his pillow, the old soldier looked up, and thenhobbled over to the bed as quietly as his wooden leg would allow. Hebent over him, felt his pulse, and then said, cheerfully, "All right, buddy, guess it's time now for rations. " Taking a covered cup fromthe hob on the grate, he deftly put a spoonful of hot beef tea toAlec's lips. 

"You had a pretty close call, young man, " he said, in response toAlec's attempt to question him. "A leetle more and it would have beendouble pneumonia. But you're about out of the woods now. We'll soonhave you on your feet. " Giving his patient a few more spoonfuls, hedrew the covers gently in place, saying, "Now don't you talk anymore. Turn over and go to sleep. "

Weak, yet thrilled with a delightful sense of comfort and freedomfrom pain, Alec obeyed unquestioningly. True, a thought did trailteasingly across his mind for a moment, a dim wonder as to where themoney was to come from to pay for the expensive luxuries of nurse anddoctor and medicines and fire, but it faded presently, and insteadhis Aunt Eunice's old song took its place:

 "I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air; I only know I cannot drift Beyond--beyond--beyond--"

He groped languidly for the final words, but could not recall them. "Never mind, " he thought, drowsily; "I've got as far as old JimmyScott, and that's a big enough island for this trip. "

A most comfortable stopping-place old Jimmy proved to be. 

Considerate as a woman of his patient's comfort, cheerful, tireless, and prompt as a minute-gun in carrying out the doctor's instructions, it was not long before he had Alec sitting up for a little while eachday. With such an old philosopher to keep him company, andentertained by the old veteran's endless fund of anecdote, Alecenjoyed those few days of convalescence more than he could havebelieved possible. 

"It isn't such a bad sort of world, after all, " he remarked onemorning, the day after the minister had called. "It is strange what adifference knowing persons makes in the way you feel toward them. Theminister was as cordial and friendly as Doctor Meldrum used to be inRidgeville. Wonder how he found out about me? I didn't know he'd everheard of me or noticed me in the congregation. "

Old Jimmy made no reply, although he longed to say: "He came becauseI sent for him, buddy, as people ought to do. They are quick enoughto send for a doctor when their bodies are sick, but when they areout of sorts either physically or mentally they never think ofletting their minister know. They hang back and feel hurt if hedoesn't come, just as if he could tell by intuition or a sort ofsixth sense that he's needed. How can a D. D. Be expected to knowwhen you want him, any more than an M. D. ?"

That afternoon as Alec sat propped up by the window for a littlewhile, looking down on the snowy street, there was a knock at thedoor. Old Jimmy, answering it, came back with a florist's boxaddressed, "Mr. Alec Stoker, with best wishes and sympathy of theGrace Church Christian Endeavour Society. " Inside was a fragrantbunch of hothouse roses. 

Alec held them up in amazement. "Why should they have sent them tome?" he cried. There was no Endeavour society in Ridgeville, and hedid not understand its methods. 

"The flower committee sends 'em to all the sick people in thecongregation, " explained Jimmy. "Posies and piety always sorter gotogether, seems like. Pretty, ain't they? But they ain't half sopretty as the young ladies that brought 'em. "

"Young ladies!" gasped Alec, looking toward the door. 

"Yes, the flower committee itself, I suppose. I didn't know two ofthem. But one of them you ought to know, buddy, seeing as it's thedaughter of your boss. Thomas Windom's daughter--Avery, I believethey call her. "

Alec's heart gave a thump. Avery Windom was the pretty girl he hadwritten to Flip about; the one whom he had wanted of all others toknow; and she had climbed to his door, had left the roses; it seemedtoo strange to be true. 

He leaned toward the window and looked down. Yes, there she went withher friends, fluttering along the snowy street. He could see thegleam of her soft, light hair under her velvet hat. Her cheeks wereflushed with her walk in the cold. He leaned eagerly nearer thewindow as she fluttered along, farther and farther down the street, until she was lost in the crowd. Then he lay back in the chair with asigh. It seemed so long since he had lived in a world where therewere bright, friendly girls like Flip. The sight of these who hadbeen so near made him homesick for the old friends of his schooldays, and he began to talk to old Jimmy about his sister and the goodtimes they used to have together. 

"I wonder which one wrote this card, " he thought, as he slipped itout of the box. "I am sure she did. The handwriting is so light andgraceful, just like her. So her name is Avery. I might have known itwould be different from other girls'. Avery! Avery!" he repeatedsoftly, while old Jimmy stumped out into the hall for some water inwhich to put the roses. "It's a pretty name. I wonder if I'll everknow her well enough to call her that. "

"Time to get back into bed now, " said old Jimmy, coming in with thepitcher. He placed the roses in it on a stand beside the bed. "Mustn't overdo matters. "

"No, indeed, " said Alec, with a new note of determination in hisvoice which did not escape old Jimmy. "I've got to get well in ahurry now, and go back to work. " Then he settled himself on hispillow, and lay smiling happily at the roses. 

CHAPTER IV. 

If the calendar over Alec's mantel could have told the history of thenext few weeks, it would have been the record of a hard struggle withhomesickness and discouragement. There was a heavy black cross drawnthrough the date of his return to work. He had come in that nightwhen it was over weighed down with the fact that his wages had beenstopped in his absence, and that it would take a long time to pay thedebts incurred during his illness. 

There was a zigzag line struck twice across the calendar below thatdate. "That much goes for the doctor!" he exclaimed, fiercelychecking off the time with a stubby pencil. "And that much to oldJimmy, and that much for fire and extras. It'll take way into the newyear to get straightened out. Luckily I am nearly through with mydebt to Aunt Eunice. "

Later there was a tiny star drawn in the corner of one date. Itmarked the Sabbath evening he had gone to the Christian Endeavourpraise service and heard Avery Windom sing. He had been introduced tohalf a dozen of the boys and girls, and been invited to come again, and had gone back to his calendar to count the nights until the nextmeeting. Ever since he had left home, he had longed with a longingthat was like hunger for the companionship of young people such as hehad known at home. There was a blur over one of the dates, the littlesquare that marked the twenty-fifth of December. It was a red-letterday on the calendar, but in Alec's bare little room a holiday thatdragged its dismal length out toward dark, like a dull ache. 

The box that had been sent him from home failed to reach him till thenext day. Standing with his hands in his pockets, looking out overthe snowy roofs of the city, he recalled all the merry Christmas daysat home, since the first time he and Flip had hung up their stockingsbeside their grandfather's wide chimney-seat. This was the first timehe had ever missed following the old custom. The city seemedoverflowing with the joy and good-will of the Yuletide, yet none ofit was for him. He had never felt so utterly left out and alone inall his life. 

Despite his seventeen years, there was an ache in his throat that hecould not drive back, and when he laid down the calendar he had beenmechanically examining, although he whistled bravely, there was atelltale blur on the page. 

But there came a day when he tore off the leaf that was crossed withthe double black lines meaning debt and worry, and began a freshsheet which seemed to promise better days. A change of work came thefirst of February, and a slight advance in wages. The manager, whohad kept a keen eye on him, was beginning to think that at last hehad found a boy who was worth training, and that if he proved asefficient in every stage of his apprenticeship as he had in thefirst, he would soon have the capable assistant that he had long beenin search of. 

Alec's notification of his promotion was in the envelope which heldhis check for the last week in January. He did not see it until hestepped into the bank to have the check cashed, and in his delightand surprise he could scarcely refrain from turning a handspring. 

So many people were ahead of him that he had to stand several minutesawaiting his turn at the little barred window. In that time he madeseveral rapid calculations on the back of the envelope. 

"Can you give me five dollars of that in gold?" he asked of thecashier when his turn finally came. With a nod of assent, the cashiercounted out several small bills, and laid a shining five-dollar goldpiece on top. Alec seized it eagerly and, thrusting the bills intohis pocket, walked out with the coin in his hand. 

Long ago he had decided how to spend his first surplus five dollarsif it came in time. It should go as a happy surprise to Flip on hersixteenth birthday. It had come in time. Her birthday was on thetwenty-first of the month. At first he thought he could not waitthree long weeks before sending it. He wanted her to have thepleasure and surprise of receiving it at once; and he wanted thethrill of feeling that he was man enough not only to beself-supporting, but to help care for his sister. 

[Illustration: "HE MADE SEVERAL RAPID CALCULATIONS ON THE BACK OF THEENVELOPE. "]

He wrapped the coin in a bit of tissue-paper, torn from theshaving-case Flip had sent him in the delayed Christmas box. Then hecarefully put it in the inner pocket of the old wallet he carried. But scarcely a night passed between that time and the twentieth thathe did not take a peep at the coin, and then count the days on hiscalendar. 

Ever since the night of the praise service, when he first heard AveryWindom sing, he had been a regular attendant at the ChristianEndeavour meetings. It was like a bit of home to sit there in themidst of the young people, singing the familiar old hymns, and hesang them so heartily and entered into the exercises of the meetingwith such zest that he soon lost the feeling that he was only astranger within the gates. 

There were some, it is true, who were only coolly polite to him, thinking of his position, an unknown boy working in the shoe factoryas a common labourer. He felt the chill of their manner keenly, andhe knew why he was so pointedly ignored. It was not a deeplyspiritual society. Only a few of the members were really consecratedChristians. There were more socials and concerts and literaryevenings than devotional meetings. Most of the members belonged toold, wealthy families, and had always been accustomed to leisure andpocket-money. Alec soon realized the bounds that were set to hissocial privileges. He might take a prominent part in the meetings, even be asked to lead on occasions, be put on committees, be assignedmany tasks in connection with suppers and festivals, but outside ofhis church relationship he was never noticed. No hospitable homeswung open its doors for him. 

Only one who has lived in a country place, which knows no classdistinctions, where character is all that counts, and where thebutcher and baker may be bidden any day, in simple village fashion, to banquet with the judge, only such an one can understand thefeeling of a boy in Alec's position. He wondered sometimes, with asudden sinking of the heart, what would be the result if they knewabout his father. 

He never looked at Avery Windom without thinking of it. He used towatch her in church, sitting up between her aristocratic father andmother, sweet and refined, like a dainty white flower. He wondered ifher slim-gloved hand would ever be held out to him again in greeting, as it had been on several occasions, if she knew that he was the sonof a criminal. 

Then he wondered what she would think if she knew that the touch ofthat little hand in his had been like the saving touch of a guardianangel. Once, urged on by one of the factory boys, an almostoverwhelming temptation had seized him, but the remembrance that ifhe yielded he would never again be fit to take her hand made himthrust his into his pockets and turn away toward home with a shrug ofthe shoulders. 

Avery, as ignorant of the influence she was exerting as a lily is ofthe fragrance it sheds, went serenely on in her gentle, high-bredway. Alec held no larger place in her thoughts than any other of theemployees in her father's factory. 

"Flip would call her one of my islands, " he said to himself onenight, as he parted on the corner from a crowd of boys who werebegging him to go with them for a little game of cards and a larkafterward. "No telling where I would have drifted if it hadn't beenfor her. It's no easy matter to keep straight when you're all alonein a city as big and tough as this. "

On his way home, he stopped at the library for a book he had heardher mention. He had overheard her quoting a line from Sir Galahad, and although he knew the story well of the maiden knight "whosestrength was as the strength of ten because his heart was pure, " ittook on a new meaning because she had praised it. He learned theentire poem by heart, and the inspiration of the lines as he bentover his work in the factory gave him many an uplift that left himmore nearly the man whom he imagined Avery's ideal to be. 

One other date was marked on the calendar with a star before Flip'sbirthday came round. It was the night of the literary contest at thehigh school, when Avery's essay took the prize. Alec had manoeuvredfor a week to get a ticket, and finally procured one from the headbookkeeper at the factory, whose sister taught in the high school. 

[Illustration: "'IT'S THE FIRST MONEY I EVER EARNED IN MY LIFE, ' SHESAID, GLEEFULLY. "]

He lingered a little while after the contest in the outskirts of thecrowd that flocked up to congratulate Avery. She came out to thecarriage on her father's arm, with a fleecy evening cloak wrappedround her, and he saw the prize. She held it out a moment in herbare, white hand to some one who stood near Alec. It was a brightfive-dollar gold piece. 

"It's the first money I ever earned in my life, " she said, gleefully, including Alec in her smile, so that he felt that the remark wasaddressed to him. "It is so precious I shall have to put it under aglass case. Maybe I can never earn another one. "

In his room once more, Alec took out his little gold coin, and, looking at it, thought he could understand just how proud Avery mustfeel of hers. 

The next time he saw her it was at a Christian Endeavour meeting. Ralph Bently was with her, a gentlemanly, elegant boy in appearance, but Alec knew the reputation he had among the young fellows who knewhim best, and it made him set his teeth together hard to see him witha girl as pure and refined as Avery. 

"He isn't fit, " he thought. "He shouldn't speak to Flip if I couldprevent it, and even if he is Avery's cousin and such a young boy, Mr. Windom oughtn't to let him into the house. "

For several weeks, at every meeting, the president had made anespecial appeal for larger contributions. A large, expensive organwas being built for the church. The Christian Endeavour Society hadpledged themselves to pay five hundred dollars of the amount due onit, but part of the sum was still lacking, even after all the socialsand fairs that had been given to raise the amount. The presidenturged each member to add a little to his previous subscription, evenat the cost of much self-denial. 

Alec had been asked to assume the duty of regularly passing one ofthe collection boxes at the Sunday night services. He had done thisso often in the Sunday school at home that he felt no embarrassmentin doing so now, except when he reached the row of chairs where Averyand her cousin sat. He sneezed just as he extended the long-handledcollection box toward them, and flushed hotly for having called everyone's attention to himself by the loud noise. 

The other collector, having finished first, placed his box on thesecretary's little stand and went back to his seat. As Alec cameforward, the president asked him in a low tone to count the money, and be ready to report the amount after the singing of the last hymn. 

Turning his back to the audience, Alec emptied both boxes into theseat of the big pulpit chair standing next to the president's. Thetwo chairs were old Gothic ones, recently retired from the churchpulpit to make room for new furniture. There were a number of penniesin the lot, and during the singing he counted them carefully severaltimes, in order to be sure that he had made no mistake. 

The hymn was a short one. It came to an end as Alec laid severallittle piles of coin on the table at the secretary's elbow. 

"Four dollars and ninety-six cents, did you say?" repeated thepresident, leaning over to catch the report Alec gave in anundertone. "Four dollars and ninety-six cents, " he announced aloud. "Really we must do better than that. "

Alec saw Avery and Ralph exchange surprised glances. The presidentwent on repeating his former explanations of their financialdifficulties. Alec, still watching, saw Ralph Bently make a move torise, and Avery's hand was laid detainingly on his arm. She waswhispering and shaking her head; but Ralph was not to be deterred byany remonstrance. He was on his feet, exclaiming:

"Mr. President, pardon the interruption. There is some mistake inthat report! The collection should amount to far more than fourdollars and ninety-six cents. Miss Windom alone gave more than that. I saw her drop a five-dollar gold piece into the box. "

Avery blushed furiously at being called into public notice in such amanner by her impetuous young cousin. Every drop of blood seemed toleave Alec's face for an instant, and then rushed back until itburned a fiery crimson. He was indignant that Ralph Bently should havebeen so wanting in courtesy as to proclaim in public the amount ofhis cousin's donation, the cherished gold piece she had won at theprize contest. And he was deeply mortified to think that he couldhave made a mistake in counting it. He wondered if he could have beensuch a fool as to have mistaken the coin for a new penny. What wouldAvery think of him?

He turned toward the table, evidently disturbed, and counted themoney again. Then he shook his head. 

"You can see for yourself, " he said; "four dollars and ninety-sixcents!"

The president picked up both boxes, and, turning them upside downover the table, shook them energetically. The secretary shoved backthe chair in which the money had been counted, gave it a tip thatwould have dislodged any coin left on its smooth plush seat, andpeered anxiously round on the floor. 

"Don't give it another thought, Mr. Stoker, please don't!" exclaimedAvery, going up to him when her attention was called to his worriedexpression. "I'm sure it has rolled off into some corner and thejanitor will find it when he sweeps. I'll speak to him about it. Anyhow, it is too small a matter to make such a fuss over. I nevershould have told Ralph what it was if he hadn't teased me about whatI had tied up in the corner of my handkerchief. " Then she passed onwith a smile. 

Alec lingered to help collect the hymn-books, and when he passed intothe vestibule he heard voices on the outer steps. One of them soundedlike Ralph Bently's. 

"Oh, maybe so!" it exclaimed, with a disagreeable little laugh; "butit's queer how money will stick to some people's fingers. "

Alec, who was in the act of opening the door to go from theprayer-meeting room into the auditorium of the church for the eveningservice, paused an instant. He was overwhelmed by the suddenconviction that he was the person meant. 

CHAPTER V. 

The next day at noon, after a hurried lunch at the restaurant, Alecstopped at the post-office on his way back to the factory. He wantedto add a few lines to the birthday letter which he had writtenPhilippa the night before. He wrote them standing at the public desk;then, drawing the old wallet from his pocket, he took out thelong-cherished gold coin from its wrapping of tissue-paper anddropped it into the envelope. 

"I'm afraid it isn't safe to send it that way, " he said to himself, balancing the letter on two fingers. "It is so heavy that any onecould guess what's in it, and it might wear through. I did want herto have it in gold, but I suppose it will be more sensible to send apostal order. "

After a moment's deliberation, he turned to the window beside thedesk, and asked for a money-order blank. Some one came in while hewas filling it out, but he was so absorbed in his occupation that hedid not look up until he turned to push the slip and the moneythrough the window bars toward the clerk. Then he saw that it wasRalph Bently who stood behind him, flipping a postal order in hisfingers, impatient to have it cashed. They exchanged careless nods, and Alec, sealing his letter, dropped it into the box and hurriedback to his work. As the outer door swung shut, Bently leaned hisarms on the window ledge and spoke to the clerk, who was an intimatefriend of his. 

"Say, Billy, " he exclaimed, "let me see that coin that Stoker paidyou just now, will you? Push it out here a minute. "

"What's up?" inquired the clerk, as he complied with the request. 

"Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to look at the date. " As he examinedit, he gave a long whistle. "Whe-ew! It's the same. Curiouscoincidence, I must say! This young brother takes up a collectionSunday night. Avery drops in her five-dollar gold piece that she gotas a prize, you know. Collector turns his back on the meeting tocount the money, hands in a report of only four dollars andninety-six cents. Vows he never saw the gold in the box. A thoroughsearch of the room fails to bring it to light. Nobody can imagine howit disappeared. The next morning he has a coin of the same date todispose of. "

"Who is the fellow, anyway?" asked the clerk. 

"That's just it! Who is he? Nobody knows. He came here from somelittle place back in the country several months ago, and went to workin the Downs & Company shoe factory. "

"If that's the case, why don't you ask your uncle about him? He'sboth the company and the manager in the firm, isn't he? He'd knowwhether the fellow was to be trusted or not. "

"I intend to, " was the answer; "and say, Billy, if you don't mind, I'll take that coin. Here's its equivalent. "

He pushed a rustling new bank-note toward his friend. "See me playSherlock Holmes now. I always did think I'd make a good detective. "

"Look out, " was the warning reply. "You have only a slim bit ofcircumstantial evidence, and it would be hard on the boy to startsuch a tale if there were no truth in it. "

With the coin in his pocket, Ralph sauntered down to his uncle'soffice. It was some time before the busy man could spare time tolisten to him. 

"Well, " he said at last, looking up, pen in hand, "what can I do foryou this morning, Ralph?" He had always taken a special interest inhis sister's only son, and now smiled kindly as he approached. 

"Oh, nothing, thank you, uncle. I just dropped in to ask you aboutone of the employees in the factory. Who is this Alec Stoker, andwhere did he come from?"

The manager's brow contracted an instant in thought. The factory wasa large one, and the roll of employees long. 

"Stoker! Stoker!" he repeated. Then his face cleared. "Ah! He is thenephew of the best salesman we have on the road. Came wellrecommended from a little town called Ridgeville, I believe. He seemsto be a faithful, energetic boy, and has already pushed up to onepromotion. "

"Did any one recommend him besides his uncle?" asked Ralph, meaningly. 

"No, that was sufficient. But you evidently have a reason for theseinquiries. Do you know anything about him?"

"No, only--" he shrugged his shoulders. "Something happened lastnight that put me on my guard. Didn't Avery tell you?"

At the mention of his daughter's name in connection with Ralph'sinsinuations, Mr. Windom was instantly alert. He laid down his pen. "No, tell me!" he demanded. 

In as few words as possible, Ralph told of the disappearance ofAvery's money from the collection box, and the discovery he had madeat the post-office. When he had finished, Mr. Windom shook his headgravely. 

"You are making a very serious charge, Ralph, " he said, "and on veryslight provocation. At sixteen one is apt to jump at hastyconclusions. Take the advice of sober sixty, my boy. It is aremarkable coincidence, I admit, but even the common law regards aman as innocent until he is proved guilty, and surely a society thatstands for all that the Christian Endeavour does would not fall belowthe common law in its sense of justice. I'm surprised that itsmembers should be so quick to whisper suspicion and point theaccusing finger. "

"Oh, I'm not a member!" Ralph exclaimed, hastily. "I am perfectlyfree to say what I think. Somehow I've never liked the fellow fromthe start. He takes so much on himself, and seems to want to pushhimself in where he doesn't belong. "

Mr. Windom, swinging round in his revolving chair toward his desk, picked up his pen again. "Stoker is all right so far as I know, " hesaid. "It would be a very small thing to let a personal dislikeinfluence you in this. "

He spoke sternly. Adjusting his eyeglasses, he pulled some paperstoward him, and Ralph, feeling that he desired the conversation toclose, backed out of the office with a hasty good day. His faceflushed at his uncle's implied rebuke, and he resolved that if therewas any possible way, he would prove that his suspicion was right. Hestopped at the post-office on his way home, to speak to the clerkagain. 

"Billy, " he said, in a confidential tone, "do a favour for me. Justdrop a line to the postmaster at that address, will you, and ask himto tell you what he knows about a former resident of that place--oneAlec Stoker? I'm hot on his track now, and I'm going to trace thisthing out if it takes all the year. "

"Found out anything?" asked the clerk. 

"Ask me later, " Ralph answered, with a knowing look. "It's adetective's policy to keep mum. "

So the poison of suspicion began its work. In a few days, the answercame to the clerk's letter. Alec Stoker was O. K. So far as thepostmaster of Ridgeville knew. His grandfather had been one of themost highly respected citizens of the place, but--then followed anaccount of Alec's father. This the self-appointed young detectiveseized eagerly. 

"Humph! Thought there was bad blood somewhere!" he exclaimed. He tookthe report to his uncle, who read it gravely, and dismissed him witha short lecture on the cruelty of repeating such stories to theintentional hurt of a fellow creature. Stung to anger by thisadditional reproof, Ralph was more determined than before to provethat his suspicions were correct. He carried the letter to thepresident of the society, urging investigation. 

"No!" was the determined answer; "better lose a thousand times thatamount than accuse him falsely. Because his father was dishonest isno proof that he is a thief. Drop it, Bently. Don't put astumbling-block in the poor fellow's way by spreading suchinsinuations as that. He seems one of the most earnest and sinceremembers we ever had in the society. "

With a muttered reply about wolves in sheep's clothing, Ralph tookhis letter to the treasurer and secretary. Meeting the same responsefrom them, he talked the matter over with some of the members, whowere more willing to listen than the others, and less conscientiousabout repeating their surmises. So the poison spread and the storygrew. It came to Alec's ears at last. There is always somethoughtless talebearer ready to gather up the arrows of gossip andthrust them into the quivering heart of the victim. 

Then the matter dropped so far as the society was concerned. Alecsimply stayed away. Some there were who never noticed his absence. Some were confirmed in their suspicions by it. Ralph Bently declaredthat it was proof enough for him that Stoker felt guilty. If nothingwas the matter, why should he have dropped out so suddenly when hehad pretended all along to be so interested in the services and hadtaken such an active part in them?

The president, noting his absence, promised himself to look him upsometime, but such promises, never finding definite dates, are neverfulfilled. The member of the visiting committee who had called onAlec during his illness, and was really interested in him, started tocall again. Something interrupted him, however, and he eased hisconscience, which kept whispering that it was his duty to go, bysending him one of the printed invitations they always sent tostrangers, cordially urging a regular attendance at the meetings. 

Then the society went selfishly on in its old channels, unmindful ofthe young life set adrift again in a sea of doubt and discouragement, with no hand held out to draw it back from the peril of shipwreck. The despairing mood that had settled down on Alec during the summerseized him again. He would work doggedly on during the day, thinkingof Flip and his Aunt Eunice, and feeling that for their sakes he muststick bravely at it. There was no other position open to him. But itwas almost intolerable staying in a town where people not only knewof his father's disgrace, but pointed accusing fingers at him. Hissensitiveness on the subject made him grow more and more morbid. Hebrooded over it until he imagined that every one who happened toglance steadily in his direction must be saying, inwardly, "Likefather, like son. "

He knew that Ralph Bently had gone to Mr. Windom with hisinformation. The talebearer had given him an exaggerated account ofthe interview. He felt that there was no longer any use for him tohope the manager would ever raise him to the position of his trustedassistant, no matter how thoroughly he might learn the details of thebusiness. For that reason he studied the newspapers for theadvertisements of help wanted. He intended to make a change at thefirst opportunity. 

Once, crossing a street, he met the Windom carriage coming towardhim. Avery, fair and gracious beside her mother, was bowing to anacquaintance. He started forward eagerly. He had not seen her sincethe last night he attended church, but the picture of her pure, sweetface, upturned like a white flower as she listened to the service, had been with him ever since. It had come before him many an eveningwhen, with head bowed on his hands, he had leaned over the littletable in his room, gazing intently into vacancy; it had laid adetaining hand on him when he would have flung out of the house inhis desperation, in search of some diversion to keep him frombrooding over his fate. 

Now they were almost face to face. Forgetting everything but hispleasure in seeing her once more, and remembering her smilinggreetings in the past, his hand went up involuntarily toward his hat;but he stopped half-way, for, turning toward her mother just then, she called her attention to something on the other side of thestreet. 

"Just what I might have expected!" muttered Alec, thinking shepurposely avoided him. His teeth were set and his face white withmortification. But in his heart he had not expected it. He had takena vague comfort in the thought that she would believe in hisinnocence, no matter who else doubted. She had insisted so kindly onhis never giving the lost money another thought. 

[Illustration: "HIS HAND WENT UP INVOLUNTARILY TOWARD HIS HAT. "]

If there had been only one accusation to deny, he could have gone toher with that, he thought. He would have compelled her to believe hisinnocence by the very force of his earnestness. But the knowledge ofthe accusation against his father silenced him. 

"Hello! You nearly knocked me down, Stoker. Where are you going?" Itwas one of the factory boys who asked the question, and Alec, hurrying down the street with unseeing eyes, became suddenly awarethat he had run against some one who had caught him by the arm, andwas laughingly shaking him to make him answer. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, I don't know, and I don't care, " was the reckless answer. 

"All right, come along if you want good company, " was the jokingreply, and the other boy, slipping his arm in Alec's, turned hissteps to a corner where a jolly crowd were waiting for him to jointhem. 

After that there were no more lonely evenings for Alec, when he satwith bowed head beside his table, staring into vacancy. He shouldhave had another promotion in March. Alec felt that he was proficientenough to be advanced, and he told himself bitterly that the reasonhe was not was because the manager mistrusted him. 

It was true that the manager did distrust him. Not on account of thesuspicions which Ralph Bently had sowed broadcast, but because, madedoubly watchful by the hint, he discovered how Alec was spending hisevenings. Although the work in the factory was done as well as ever, he knew that no one could keep the company and late hours that Alecdid and not fall short of the high standard he had set for the onewho was ultimately to become his assistant. 

The months slipped slowly by. Philippa wrote that the garden was gaywith spring crocuses and snowdrops; then that Ridgeville had neverbeen such a bower of roses as it was that June. But to Alec themonths were marked only by his little winnings and little losings. 

There came a time in the early autumn when Alec crept up the creakingstairs to his room, haggard and pale in the gray light of thebreaking dawn. He had been out all night and lost not only all themoney he had put away in the bank, the savings of seven endlessmonths, but he was in debt for a greater sum than all his nextmonth's salary would amount to. 

Heavy-eyed and dizzy from the long hours spent in the close littlegambling den, reeking with stifling tobacco smoke, Alec draggedhimself to his room. After he had closed the door, he stood leaningwith his back against it for a moment. He was facing two picturesthat gazed at him from the mantel: One was the patient, wistful faceof his Aunt Eunice; the other was Philippa's, looking straight out athim with such honest, sincere eyes, such eager questioning, that hecould not meet their clear gaze. He strode across the room and turnedboth faces to the wall. Then, without undressing, he threw himself onthe bed with a groan. 

He was late reaching the factory that morning, for he fell asleep atonce into a sleep of exhaustion, so deep that the usual sounds didnot arouse him. As it was his first offence, the foreman passed it byin silence; but, faint from lack of food (there had been no time forbreakfast), worn by the excitement and high nervous tension of thenight before, he was in no condition to do his work. He made onemistake after another, until, made more nervous by repeated accidentsboth to the material and machinery he was handling, he made a blundertoo serious to pass without a report to the manager. It involved theloss of considerable money to the company. 

"You'll be lucky if that mistake doesn't give you your walkingpapers, " said the foreman. "You'll hear from it at the end of themonth. "

If there had been only himself to consider, Alec would have welcomedhis dismissal, but there was Flip and his Aunt Eunice. How theybelieved in him! How proud they were of him! Not for worlds would hehave them know how far he had fallen short of their ideal of him. Sofor their sakes he waited in feverish anxiety to know the result. 

CHAPTER VI. 

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon. A few lumps of coal burned in thedingy grate in Alec's room. He had slept for several hours, hadfinished reading his last library book, and now, as he clasped hishands behind his head, yawning lazily, he remembered that he had notwritten home for two weeks. Letter-writing had become a dreaded tasknow. What was there to tell them of himself that he cared for them toknow? Only that he worked from seven until six, ate, slept, and roseto work again with the dreary monotony of a machine. 

For seven months he had not been inside a church door. The onlypeople he met now were the workmen at the factory and the boys withwhom he spent his evenings. He could not mention them. Long ago hehad exhausted his descriptions of the city. There was nothing for himto write but that he was well and busy, and to fill up the pages withquestions about the people at home. It taxed his ingenuity sometimesto evade Flip's straightforward questions, and he often thought thathis letters had an insincere ring. 

"I wonder what they are doing at home now!" he exclaimed, lookingthoughtfully into the coals. "It's just a year ago to-day that Ileft. I can't imagine them living in the new house. It's always theold sitting-room I see when I think of them. Mack is probably down onthe hearth-rug, popping corn or roasting apples, and Flip's curled upin the chimney-seat, telling him stories. And Aunt Eunice--I knowwhat she's doing; what she always does Sunday evening just at thistime, when the twilight begins to fall. She has gone into her roomand shut the door and knelt down by the big red rocking-chair that weused to be rocked to sleep in. And she's praying for us this veryminute, and doesn't know that the dust is half an inch thick on myBible, and that a prayer hasn't passed my lips since last February. Dear old Aunt Eunice!"

An ache clutched his throat as he thought of her, and a tender mood, such as he had not known for weeks, rushed warm across him. One afteranother the old scenes rose up before him, until an overwhelminglonging to see the well-known faces made the homesick tears start tohis eyes. 

The twilight shadows deepened in the room, but, lost in the rush oftender memories, he forgot everything save the pictures that seemedto rise before him out of the glowing embers in the grate. In themidst of his reverie, there was a noise on the stairs--a familiarnoise, although he had not heard it for months, a tread and a doubletap, as if a foot and two canes were coming up the steps. 

"Old Jimmy Scott!" thought Alec, looking round as if awakening from adream and discovering that the room was nearly dark; he stirred thefire until it burst into cheerful flames. 

"Well!" he exclaimed, cordially, throwing open the door in answer toold Jimmy's knock, "of all people! Did you rain down? Here I sat inthe dumps, feeling that I hadn't a friend in the town. Come in! Comein!"

He pulled a chair hospitably toward the grate for his guest, and putanother lump of coal on the fire. 

"Knew you'd be surprised to see me a day like this, " said the oldsoldier, thrusting his foot toward the blaze; "but I've beenintending to look you up for some time. Kind o' had a drawing in thisdirection. Thinks I, when I felt it, wonder if he's sick and needsme. When I have feelings like that, I usually pay attention to 'em. "

They talked of various things for the next quarter of an hour; of theweather, the new city hall, the approaching elections; but they wereboth ill at ease. It seemed to Alec that the old man's heart was notin the conversation; that he was only trying to pave the way to someother topic. Finally a pause fell between them. Alec rose to putanother lump of coal on the fire, and old Jimmy, looking round theroom, noticed the two photographs on the mantel with their facesturned to the wall. He knew well enough whose pictures they were. During Alec's convalescence he had studied them many a time while helistened to the homesick boy's enthusiastic description of his sisterand the aunt who had been like a mother to him. 

As Alec took his chair again, he saw the old man's surprised glanceat the pictures. Then their eyes met. Alec flushed guiltily. 

"Something's wrong, boy, " said old Jimmy, tenderly. "I knew it. That's why I felt moved to come. Seemed as if the Lord put it in myheart that I must. There's special services going on at Grace Churchthis week. Something in the evangelist's sermon this morning made mefeel that I'd got to speak to somebody before nightfall--stir upsomebody to a better life--or I'd be held accountable. Then all of asudden I began to think of you, so I came up to ask if you wouldn'tgo to hear him to-night. But I see now that it's more than aninvitation to church you need. You're in trouble, or you never wouldhave done that. " He nodded toward the pictures. "What is it?"

Alec hesitated a minute, and old Jimmy, reaching over, laid asympathetic hand on his shoulder. Something in the friendly touchbrought a swift rush of tears to Alec's eyes. He was so homesick andlonely, and it seemed so good to have some one to talk with who wasreally interested in him. Dropping his face in his hands and leaningforward with his elbows on his knees, he blurted out his trouble inbroken sentences. 

[Illustration: "HE BLURTED OUT HIS TROUBLE IN BROKEN SENTENCES. "]

He told the whole story, beginning with the missing coin; RalphBently's insinuations and subsequent endeavour to fasten suspicion onhim; the disclosure of his father's disgrace; the gossip that hadcaused him to drop out of the society and church, where he felt thathe was no longer wanted. Finally the habits he had fallen into, andthe money he had lost, and the foreman's prophecy of his dischargefrom the factory at the end of the month. 

"I tried to do right, " he said in conclusion. "I had tried all mylife. I joined the church when I was no older than Mack, and I livedjust as straight as I knew how. But after that--when every one cutme--it didn't seem as if it was any use. I just lost faith ineverything and gave up trying. I used to believe in Aunt Eunice'sidea of the eternal goodness. It made me feel so safe, somehow, tothink that, no matter what happened, we could never--

 "'Drift beyond His love and care. '"

That He had set islands for us to come across at every turn. Youknow. You remember that little map I made when I was getting well. One of the islands was named for you, and one was the Isle of Roses, because those flowers the Christian Endeavour society sent seemed toput new courage into me, and led to the acquaintances and friendshipsthat helped me so much while I had them. 

"But I've lost that feeling now. I'm cut loose from everything, andyou don't know how terribly adrift I feel. I'm just whirled alongfrom day to day, till I've almost come to the place it tells about inJob, where there's nothing left to do but 'curse God and die. '"

As he paused, old Jimmy's voice broke in with hearty cheerfulness, "Why, bless you, my boy, you're all in a fog. And do you know thereason? You haven't the right Pilot aboard any more. 

"The 'islands' are all round you, just the same, put there on purposefor you, but you let the devil get his hand at the wheel, and hekeeps you steered away from 'em. You say you stopped praying? Thatvery moment he got aboard and took possession. You quit trusting theLord the instant you got into deep water. 

"You made a mistake when you let anybody's gossip run you out of thechurch or the society. You ought to have stayed and lived it down!That's the only thing for you to do now; go back and begin again andmake people believe in your innocence. It will be hard for you, andpowerfully awkward, for you have more than your share of pride andsensitiveness, but it's the only manly thing to do. "

"Oh, I _couldn't_ go back!" groaned Alec. "I believe I'd rather diefirst. If it had only been what they said about me, I might have doneit, but I couldn't face what they'd continually be thinking about myfather. I could never live that down. "

"Yes, you can! If you'll only put yourself entirely in the Lord'shands, He'll furnish the strength for you to do whatever is right. You've come to a crisis, Alec Stoker. You've got to fight it outright now, which is to have control of the rest of your life, God orthe devil. "

There was a long silence. Presently, in a voice choked with emotion, the old man said, "Kneel down, son; I want to pray with you. "Together they knelt in the darkening room. 

For a long time after old Jimmy took his leave, Alec sat gazing intothe flickering fire, as the room grew dimmer and dimmer. Then, urgedon by some impulse almost beyond his control, he slipped on hisovercoat and hurried out into the street. When he reached thevestibule at the side door of the church, he stood a moment with hishand on the latch. His courage had suddenly failed him. He would goback home and wait until another time, he told himself. The servicemust be nearly over. 

But just then some one struck a few soft chords on the piano, and afull, clear voice began to sing. It was Avery's voice, and she sangwith all the pleading earnestness of a prayer:

 "Jesus, Saviour, pilot me Over life's tempestuous sea! Unknown waves before me roll, Hiding rock and treacherous shoal; Chart and compass come from thee: Jesus, Saviour, pilot me. "

Out in the darkness, the storm-tossed, homesick boy stood listening, till his whole soul seemed to go out in that one cry, "Jesus, Saviour, pilot me!" It was a complete surrender of self, and as hewhispered the words a peace that he had never known before, a greatpeace he could not understand, seemed to fold him safe in itskeeping. 

As the last words of the song died away, he opened the door andwalked in. If there was surprise on the faces of many, he did not seeit. If it was a departure from the usual custom, he never stopped toconsider it. The evangelist who had charge of the service stood for afinal word of exhortation, asking if there were not many who couldmake that song their own, and offer it as a prayer of consecration. 

It was never quite clear to Alec afterward just what he said then. But as he told of the struggle he had just been through, and inbroken sentences made a public confession of his faith, eyes grewdim, and hearts already touched by the song were strangely thrilledand stirred. Afterward the members came crowding round him with awarm welcome, and he carried away with him the remembrance of many ahearty hand-clasp. One of them was Mr. Windom's. He rarely attendedthe young people's meetings, and to-night had come only to hear hisdaughter sing. If he had had any misgivings as to the boy's sincerityof purpose before, every doubt was cleared away as he listened to hismanly confession of faith, and looked into his happy face, almosttransformed with the hope that illuminated it. 

It was Thanksgiving Day. Alec, home on his first vacation, stood infront of the open fire, watching Philippa set the table for theirlittle feast. He had talked late the night before, and told of themany changes that had taken place during the last two months. He wasin the office now, and his salary had been raised sufficiently toenable him to take a room in a comfortable boarding-house. Since hisconversion, Mr. Windom had taken several occasions to show Alec thathe trusted him implicitly. 

Radiant in her joy at having her brother home again, Philippa keptbreaking into little snatches of song whenever there was a pause inthe conversation. She thought she had never known such a happyThanksgiving. 

"How nice and homelike it all is!" Alec exclaimed, sniffing thesavoury odours that rushed in from the kitchen, of turkey and minceturnovers, whenever Aunt Eunice opened the oven door. "And how goodit seems to hear you singing like that, Flip!"

"Do you remember the day you told me that it set your teeth on edgeto hear me singing that hymn?" asked Philippa, laughingly. 

"Yes, but that was because I was all out of tune myself. Everythingis different now. Since I've given up trying to do my own piloting, it seems to me that I come across one of His 'islands' nearly everyday. " As he spoke, Macklin came running up on the porch, stamping thesnow from his feet, and burst into the house, his cheeks as red aswinter apples. 

"Here's a letter for you, Alec!" he cried. "Where's my hammer, Flip?I want to crack some of those nuts we gathered on purpose forto-day. "

She brought him the hammer, and he hurried away. Alec was turning thedainty blue envelope over in his hands. 

The address was written in the same hand as the card which had comenearly a year ago with the Christian Endeavour roses. He tore openthe envelope, glanced at the monogram, then down the page, and turnedto Philippa with a long-drawn whistle. "I wish you'd listen to this!"he exclaimed. 

 "DEAR MR. STOKER:--I am writing this in the hope that it will reach you on Thanksgiving Day. You have suffered so much on account of that miserable gold piece of mine, it is only fair that you should have this explanation at once. 

 "This afternoon Miss Cornish and I went to the church to practise a new song that I am to sing at the Thanksgiving service. She was to play my accompaniments. The side door of the church was open, for the florist was decorating the altar, so we did not need to use the minister's latch-key, which we had borrowed for the occasion. We practised for some time, and then sat and talked until it was almost dark. When we started home, we found to our dismay that the janitor, thinking we had gone, had double-locked the door for the night with his big key. Our little latch-key was then of no use. 

 "We called and pounded until we were desperate. I had an engagement for dinner, and could not afford to lose any time. Finally we went into the prayer-meeting room, and found that we could open one of the panes in the great stained-glass window at the side. Miss Cornish climbed up on one of those old pulpit chairs that the officers use, and said that if she could lean out through the pane, she would call to the first one who passed, and ask him to bring the janitor to our release. 

 "But some way, in climbing, Miss Cornish caught her high heel in the plush with which the seat is upholstered. The goods is frayed and old. The chair tipped, and they both came to the floor with a bang. Just as I sprang to catch her, something bright and round rolled out of the chair toward me and dropped right at my feet. 

 "It was that unlucky gold coin, which must have slipped under the plush in some way when you counted the money on it that night. 

 "It was so late when we were finally rescued that I could not keep my dinner engagement. I am glad for one reason; it gives me time to write this now. I know that it will make your Thanksgiving brighter to know this, and I am sure that it is needless for me to say that I never for an instant connected the disappearance of the coin with you in any way. I regret extremely the silly gossip that wounded you so sorely, and want to tell you how much I respect the manly way in which you have since met and answered it. 

 "Wishing you a happy Thanksgiving with your family, I am

 "Sincerely your friend, "AVERY WINDOM. "

[Illustration: "'IT WAS THAT UNLUCKY GOLD COIN. '"]

Philippa, watching his face as he read, came up to him when he hadfinished, and put a hand on each shoulder. 

"Alec, " she said, with the straightforwardness of sixteen, "thatmeans a lot to you, doesn't it, that she should write that she is'sincerely your friend'?"

"Yes, " he answered, honestly; "a very great deal. "

"Do you suppose it would stand in the way, sometime, when you areolder, you know, and have made a place for yourself in the world, herknowing about--about father?"

"I don't know, Flip, " he answered, slowly; "I've often wondered aboutthat. "

Through the open door came Aunt Eunice's voice, singing jubilantly:

 "I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise, Assured alone that life and death His mercy underlies. "

"How that old hymn answers everything!" Alec said, softly. "No matterwhat lies ahead, it's all right now. God's at the helm, littlesister! I shall find all the 'islands' he has set for me. "

 THE END.